


The guide to holding hands in July

by geckosandstarks



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Minor Octavia Blake/Jasper Jordan, raven/wick are the main trope here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckosandstarks/pseuds/geckosandstarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh you’re totally just naming it that so I have to pay for the thing. I know you cheated on me with Monty.”</p>
<p>Or, the one where Monty unintentionally sets up Raven and Wick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The guide to holding hands in July

She was going to kill Monty.

With a wrench.

_Slowly._

The atmosphere in the brightly-lit restaurant was stifling, the gentle hush of laughter and dimmed tone of conversation around her mixed with fluidity of the soft piano keys did nothing to ease her, but rather, suffocated her more, forced into small talk with the grinning man beside her.

She’d been polite all evening, nodding and smiling, laughing at his horrifically un-funny jokes, and able to keep the stitched smile on her face genuine enough to fool him into perhaps thinking she was enjoying herself, when all she really wanted to do was squirm out of the shiny, tight black dress Monty and Miller had forced her into (they could be strangely persuasive when they weren’t sucking each other’s faces off), and get back to her apartment, where she could barricade herself in her make-shift lab, and work on that equation that had been bugging the  _hell_ out of her for a week now.

But she knew how much everyone had been worrying about her lately, about how she was dealing with Finn, and the fact that he was dead. It’d been two years since his death, and the throbbing pain in her heart had been slowly reduced to a dull ache, but that had been through her two-year grieving process, which was in fact, still in place.

She knew they all worried about how little time she spent with them, choosing instead to hole herself up in her small home and focus on equations and scientific formulas. But what else had she been to do? She was surrounded by sad looks and concerned glances, and her heart just didn’t make s _ense,_ so she’d turned to the numbers to rely on, the numbers that  _did_ make sense and that couldn’t look at her like she was a wilting flower, and, unlike anything else in her life, had structure and patterns that she could follow and understand.

Numbers made sense.  _Feelings_ hadn’t.

It was true she wasn’t the same person she had been, but she was starting to get better now, she was starting to venture outside the safety harness of mathematical equations and (sometimes) exploding experiments.  She was even going on dates now. She cared about her friends, and this date had really been for more their benefit of hers. She’d been glad to see the brightness Octavia’s smile could bring again when she’d learned about Ravens plans for the evening, jumping from Jaspers loose embrace around her waist to hug the girl. Clarke and Bellamy had been a little more reserved, the blonde grinning at her from her position in Bellamy’s lap, her smile almost as bright as Octavia’s.

This was what spurred Raven to let out another false laugh as her date attempted yet another piece of crappy humour – the happiness and relief she knew her friends would gain from this.

(But Monty was longer her friend for setting her up with such a poor excuse of a date. Monty was a  _dead man.)_

She skimmed her eyes loosely around the restaurant as her date excused himself to the bathroom, glad to let her false smile drop and ease her now sore lips. She hadn’t especially been looking for anyone, or at least, she didn’t think she had, when she caught sight of Wick across the room, the grin on his face resembling more of a grimace than anything else.

Well, what were the chances? She’d remembered Monty mentioning something about himself being ‘literally a god-send to you hopelessly spineless weirdoes’ (he was still boasting over the fact that  _he’d_ been the one to  _finally_ get Bellamy and Clarke together by locking them in a small closet and forever scarring Octavia when she’s reached into said closet blindly for her coat – she’d screamed and claimed she needed to sterilize her hand when Jasper had announced that no matter how much she’d washed it, she’d always have the ‘mark of Bellamy and Clarke’s sperm babies’ – she’d withheld sex for a month from him for that particular comment), as well as something about Wick, but she’d mostly tuned out the conversation because he’d been alternating between talking and making out with Miller and – ew.

But for the first time that night, seeing Wick neatly tucked into a slim fitting suit and frilly white shirt that looked to be about two sizes too small, she couldn’t help the snort of (actual) laughter that fell from her lips. He was clearly uncomfortable in not only his outfit, but with the situation, as his date looked about ready to devour him (she was already half way there with the way she was looking at him, really).

As if sensing her teasing gaze, Wick looked up and met her eyes across what seemed to be acres of smooth jazz. She laughed again at the almost desperate plea in his eyes, shrugging and sending him a thumbs up from across the room. His eyes narrowed at he stared, though his lips upturned in a small smile. 

Reaching across the table for some bread, Raven stretched for two pieces – one, a fairly large loaf, the other, significantly smaller. She settled them in front of her for a moment, locking gazes with Wick, and making a show of letting her eyes drift downwards, settling on one, particular point.

She raised her gaze from his crotch slowly to meet his widened eyes, before letting her features fall into a mask of sympathy, shrugging her shoulders. She picked up the two loaves of bread, one large and one small, looking again at his crotch, before sighing and nodding towards the smallest loaf, settling the larger one down.

She sends the message with the laughter already forming in her eyes.

_Let’s be honest here Wick, her dick is probably bigger than yours._

She took a sip of wine, almost choking on it when the outraged realisation formed in his features. She was still struggling to regain her composure when her date returned, concern clear in her sudden demeanour change. She only shook his worry away, though feeling lighter now she’d had her daily dosage of tormenting Wick.

She glanced over at him again, unable to help herself in the moment, and, upon meeting the challenge in his eyes, grins, already seeing the night in a whole new light from the disaster where it began.

_Bring it on._

And so it continues through the evening. By now the rules of the game have been set, without either one of them actually having to say anything. Whoever can make the other look like the biggest idiot wins.

That’s it. That’s how they spend the rest of the night.

Wick presses to fingers to the side of his mouth, waggling his tongue between them while his dates back is turned, which succeeds in making Raven actually choke on her wine this time, laughing into her hand. In return, she forms a ring with her right hand, pushing her left finger through the hole, her expression growing even more scandalous with each centimetre she pushes her finger through. Wick’s hand goes to cover the laugh already escaping from his lips, which earns him a strange look from the woman opposite him.

Eventually, Raven stands from her seat to get in another order of drinks, laughing to herself silently and shaking her head fondly. As she turns to give her order, an arm reaches for her bare shoulder and spins her around effortlessly.

She looks to Wick in confusion, to which he only responds to with a wicked grin. Suddenly, his face falls, taking on a mask of sorrow and pressing a hand to his heart, before exclaiming loudly:

“Stop this! Stop this game, Raven! I love you and I can’t be your toy anymore!” He sinks to his knees, gripping her waist and burying his face in her stomach as the attention of the restaurant turns to them.

“I’ll have the foursome! I’ll do it! Just don’t leave me!” He sobs into her dress-clad middle, sending her a secret grin. The people around them let out scandalous gasps and immediately launch into hushed gossip, and Raven lets out a tiny grin, before rivalling his pained expression with her own.

She moves away from him, letting out a choked sob into the now silent room.

“You know that’s not it, Wick. You know the reason we broke up was your obsession. I can’t be with a man that can only come when he uses a dildo from behind. I KNOW ABOUT THE COLLECTION! _AND THE SHRINE!”_

She covers the laughter by turning away, biting down hard on her lip to keep the grin at bay.

“THE DILDO’S WERE JULIES!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME! JULIES DILDO’S ARE ALWAYS GREEN – THESE WERE PURPLE. THEY WERE PURPLE, WICK!”

Laughter flitters around the restaurant, and Wick only just manages to not break down in laughter himself, staring at Raven with fake outrage and hurt, before pressing a hand gently to his stomach.

“I’ll make sure you never see our baby.” He spits out, and storms out of the restaurant dramatically, slamming the door with a wail on his lips.

Raven only just manages to not break down in cackles as she sees the look of pure terror on her dates face, and stalks over to grab her coat, before slamming the door on her way out.

The second the door is shut behind her, she sees Wick waiting by the wall, and they both burst out in the laughter they had only just managed to contain inside. Unsteady, Raven wobbles slightly in her heels, and Wick reaches out to steady her, hands on her waist.

And then suddenly they’ve stopped laughing.

His hands are hot against the flimsy material of the dress, his arms enclosing around her small body, and when she looks down at them, it’s as though they fit perfectly there, even if they do tremble slightly. Tentatively, she risks a glance upwards, and then she’s framing the features and lines of his face helplessly, skimming over each eyelash individually (though careful to avoid actually meeting his gaze), drifting down the curve of his nose, the slight flush of his cheeks, and the pink of his lips.

She then becomes acutely aware that his hands have moved down to her hips and her hand has somehow reached out to press against his shoulder, and he’s leaning down so close now that she can feel his breath fan out across her face and if she just angles her head up slightly then-

“We should eat.” She breathes out before his lips can connect to hers, but her eyes are closed and she’s almost incapable of tearing her body away from the heat of his in that moment.

Still though, his hands drop and he moves away, nodding and unknowingly allowing her to function properly again.

“Yeah, definitely. That place was uh, real classy, which would explain the size of their meals. I mean, who could actually survive a whole night on that?” He asks incredulously, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck.

Raven nods back, a small smile already working its way onto her face. “Well, you are eating for two.”

He grins, cradling his stomach protectively. “Oh yes, Raven Jr. is a hungry one.” He says seriously, which she meets with the single raise of an eyebrow.

“Oh you’re totally just naming it that so I have to pay for the thing. I know you cheated on me with Monty.” She retorts, crossing her arms. He gasps, turning his body sideways and pressing a hand to his heart.

“Don’t you talk about our baby that way!” She laughs, reaching out to shove him back slightly.

“Seriously, I’m hungry. Let’s go get a burger before I decide to make you pay for it.”

They trail through the damp streets with a clear boundary space between them, before Raven gently reaches out for his hand, and entwines their fingers together. He raises an eyebrow at her, but doesn’t pull away.

“What? I’m not allowed to be cold?”

“It’s July.”

“… Shut up.”


End file.
